


Promise?

by orphan_account



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bokuaka - Freeform, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, One Shot, soft sappy and sad, volley babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 08:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18616612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Akaashi hates losing and Bokuto is a source of comfort





	Promise?

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone!! first of all, this fic was inspired by [this](https://twitter.com/evexaoa/status/1121372324819656705) fanart on twitter!! please check it out because it's AWESOME
> 
> this is my very first fanfic and i'm kinda nervous about it. i know to some it may come off as like a bromance, but (at least to me) it's not. i hope this fic does bokuto's and akaashi's relationship justice even though i didn't explicitly use the word "boyfriend" or anything because i feel like they're more than that if you know what i mean?? idk sorry i hope you still like this anyway
> 
> please be gentle because i was the only one who proofread this... at nearly 4 am lol so if there are any mistakes, i'm sorry!!
> 
> also one more thing, for the purpose of this, it's implied bokuto and akaashi knew each other before high school and went to middle school together. i know that's not canon compliant but just a heads up!!

The gym smells like salonpas, sweat, and tears. Lots and lots of tears. The Fukurodani Volleyball Team bows for their final time in front of the crowd.

“Thank you for your support!” is shouted through sobs as people in the bleachers clap. Fukurodani had just missed their chance at qualifying for Nationals. The applause sounds just as empty as their spirit as the crowds looks on with sorrow and poorly masked pity.

Bokuto leads his team to the bench so they can collect their stuff and go home. He looks around the gym as he’s packing. He looks at the net, pulled exhaustingly tight, mimicking the way his team feels. He looks at the familiar basket of volleyballs, the rise of the two posts on either side of the net, the shine of the court floor.

_I’m really going to miss this._

Bokuto looks at his teammates. The harsh lighting of the gymnasium exposes dried tear streaks, blotchy cheeks, and tired eyes. Some of his teammates are doing their best to stop crying, biting their lips so hard they bleed. Others don’t care, letting fresh tears consume them completely as they choke on their what ifs and could’ve beens.

Bokuto manages a small smile when Konoha catches him looking around. The smile soon turns to confusion as he continues scanning his team for the one face he hasn’t seen since they bowed to the crowd.

“Hey, where did Akaashi go?”

Komi turns to look at Bokuto, the quiet sadness swimming in his eyes. “I think I saw him heading towards the locker room.”

~~~

As Bokuto’s walking to the locker room, he finally lets himself wallow in his own pity away from his teammates, for just a moment. He knows he shouldn’t do this to himself, but he feels like it’s his fault his team lost. The set came to him and by the time his hand directed the ball, he knew he screwed up. That goddamn Nohebi blocker had kept his eyes on him the whole match and read him like a picture book. As he replays the scene in his head, the sound of the ball hitting his team’s side of the court, the blow of the whistle, the roar of the Nohebi crowd, it resonates in his ears and rattles his chest as if it just happened.

Bokuto stops short right outside the locker room at the sound of someone weeping. He would’ve turned around and walked away if he didn’t recognize it. The sound makes Bokuto’s heart sink and his throat constrict. He takes a deep breath and gently pushes open the door.

“Akaashi?”

He hears a hiccup and muffled sob, like someone that’s trying so hard to stop crying, but cries even harder at their efforts. Bokuto makes his way around the winding maze of tan lockers with quiet footsteps. His breath momentarily stalls as he rounds the corner to see his best friend sat on the floor, slumped against the lockers. Akaashi’s head is between his knees, the heels of hands pressed against his eyes.

Timid, Bokuto approaches him. It’s not like he’s never seen Akaashi cry. There was that one time his bunny died and they held a funeral for her. Or that time at his middle school graduation. But he’s never seen Akaashi cry quite like this, it’s vulnerable in a way he can’t explain. This is the most raw and exposed he’s ever seen him. 

“Hey, Akaashi. Get up,” Bokuto says softly. He squats and takes Akaashi’s pale, slender wrists in his comparably much larger hands and pulls him to his feet.

Akaashi doesn’t make eye contact with him.

_He doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. He doesn’t want me to see him like this._

So Bokuto abides by Akaashi’s unspoken wishes and closes his eyes as he pulls his best friend into a hug. He smells like sweat and his deodorant, a smell Bokuto has come to associate with home. He knows now is not the time to be thinking about this, but Bokuto marvels at how well they fit together, like pieces of a puzzle. He runs his hands around Akaashi’s shoulders and up and down his back to comfort him. Akaashi presses his face against Bokuto’s chest as he takes a shuddering breath that Bokuto can feel at his very core.

Still with his eyes closed, Bokuto says, “You did well.” From anyone else, this might seem like some half-assed, ingenuine statement you use when you don’t know what else to say to someone as they cry on your shoulder. But it’s not just from anyone else and it’s not just to anyone else. It’s from Bokuto to Akaashi. It’s from one best friend to another. From one partner to another. From one half to its other.

And maybe that’s why Akaashi cries. Hard. Harder than he was before. 

Bokuto open his eyes and stares at a black combination lock a few feet in front of him. He brings his hand up and soothingly massages the nape of Akaashi’s neck, knowing that it’s his favorite spot.

Bokuto turns his head so he can whisper, “It’s okay, Keij. It’s okay.”

Akaashi chokes on a strangled wail and weakly pounds his fist against Bokuto’s chest, the spot right next to his heart. “No. No, it’s not, Bokuto.”

Bokuto stills for just a moment. Akaashi never drops the honorific.

“We’re not going to Nationals, Bokuto. You’re not going to Nationals. I’m not going to Nationals with you.” Akaashi’s hands wind and pull at the hem of Bokuto’s jersey out of frustration. “If I just could’ve--”

“No,” Bokuto says firmly and he tightens his hold around Akaashi. “We’re not playing the pity game. It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. It’s not the team’s fault. Would we have done things differently if we turned back time? Maybe. But we did all we could in the moment.”

Akaashi pushes Bokuto with more force than expected. He has the body structure of a bird, but the brute force of a bear. His face is twisted in anger, half directed at Bokuto, half directed somewhere else. There’s a little crease between his eyebrows that Bokuto wishes he could make go away. “How can you say that?! Aren’t you upset?”

Bokuto’s momentarily shocked face softens. “Of course I am, Keiji. I’m angry. I’m pissed as hell. I’m regretful that this is my last year and this is how it went.” Defeat colors his voice, “And just like you, the thing I’m most sad about is not going to Nationals with you. I can’t go to Nationals with my partner, my other half and,” Bokuto sighs in exasperation, “God Akaashi, when the ball dropped on our side of the court for the final time, I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to kneel and punch the floor until I broke my hand beyond repair. So yes I’m upset.”

Bokuto takes a deep breath. “But I’m also happy. Grateful. Forgiving that this is the way things have ended. Happy because I still had the chance to compete with my team, my family, knowing we gave it our all. Grateful that you guys had my back and stuck by me through it all. And forgiving because you were my setter, you are my person. I’d rather lose this match with you than win it with anyone else in the world.”

Akaashi’s eyes widen and he starts crying again as he walks two steps forward and encircles his arms around Bokuto’s waist. His body shakes as he cries, this time not loud and in anguish, but silently, probably the worst kind of cry. The kind with so many emotions bottled up inside that they don’t make noise when they’re released, kinda like when something is so loud, it seems like it’s not making any sound at all.

“I hate losing,” Akaashi mumbles.

Bokuto chuckles at that, “I know.”

“I’m going to miss you, Koutarou.” There’s so much anticipatory pain and heartache in those six words, Bokuto can feel tears slipping down his cheeks before he even knew he was going to cry.

“I’ll miss you too, Keiji,” Bokuto says as he holds Akaashi snugly against his chest, “but I’ll still be around. I’ll come to your matches and practices when I can.”

Akaashi scoffs and sniffles, “I know, but it won’t be the same and you know that, too.”

“I do.” Bokuto pauses thoughtfully, “We’ll meet on the same court again soon.”

He can feel Akaashi relax against him. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay okay, i know fukurodani made it to nationals in canon but i couldn't think of anything that would fit the fanart (and therefore the fic) than them not qualifying. i also left nohebi ambiguous because i'm a fake fan :( and havent read the manga (please be gentle if you're going to roast me for that haha)
> 
> again thank you so so much for reading!!


End file.
